


Uncle Donald and the Boys meet Scrooge McDuck

by YaminoTenshi202



Series: The Uncle Donald Show [1]
Category: Disney Duck Universe, Disney Ducks (Comics), Dolan Duk (Meme), DuckTales (Cartoon 1987), DuckTales (Cartoon 2017)
Genre: Anal Sex, Canon-Typical Violence, Cunnilingus, Dolan Duk Logic and Rules, Every living thing is born without reason, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Family Bonding, Family Secrets, M/M, Memes, Resolved Sexual Tension, Secret Incest, Secret Relationship, Trans Della Duck, Trans Female Character, Tropes are Played Straight in this Series, Tsunderes, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Yandere, for now
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-27
Updated: 2019-12-26
Packaged: 2021-01-05 13:35:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21209396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YaminoTenshi202/pseuds/YaminoTenshi202
Summary: “Why are you here, my dear?”“Job interview. No babysitter.”“You want me to babysit them? How often?”Donald closed his eyes, shaking his head. “No, just this once. Please. I just… I don’t want to be here.”“Now, Donald. Don’t lie.” Scrooge moved the cane from behind Donald and held Donald close. Donald could hear his smile. “Don’t you dare lie to me.”





	1. Chapter 1

“Goofy, please.”

“ _ I’m sorry, Donald. I can’t come. I have work in just an hour and I’m already running late! _ ” Goofy was panting slightly into the receiver. Donald could only interpret the noise in the background as Max’s routine for his day.

“All right, Goofy.”

“ _ I’m sorry again, Donald. I hope everything will work out… Have you called Mickey? Minnie? Daisy? _ ”

“Everyone’s busy… Thanks again.”

“ _ Bye, buddy. Talk to you later? _ ”

“Talk to you soon.”

Donald hung up, groaning. Of all days for the babysitter to get the wrong address, it had to be when it was summer and he was to be out for a job interview.

“Whatcha gonna do, Uncle Donald?” Louie stared up at him, eyes looking around in the way that Donald knew was a sign of anxiety. Donald petted Louie’s head. He looked over to Huey, who had been so kind as to make breakfast for everyone today.

“... Are you sure you kids will be okay while I’m at my interview?”

“We’ll be fine, Uncle Donald!” Huey assured him, hugging him about the waist. “We’ll just be waiting for Dewey to get up and we’ll all eat.”

“All right. All right.” Donald adjusted his suit, fixed his time one more time, and went to the door. “Go get your life vests. I’ll be back later. I’ll call.”

“Okay!”

“Bye, Uncle Donald!”

Donald could feel himself tense as he closed the door behind him. All he had to do was to go to his interview, pick up some things from the store, and come back to his kids. His sister’s kids... 

He missed her today.

The triplets had just celebrated their tenth birthday. They had gone to Funzo’s Funzone, where Donald had shelled out enough money that he could feel his wallet dying of cash-loss in his pocket. He had finally paid off his credit cards; he wasn’t going to start owing on another, especially with the houseboat that need repairs. The engine didn’t always turn over, like right now. It was sputtering and-

Donald turned right back to the door of his home and barged his way in.

Huaey looked up at him with wide eyes.

“Is something the matter, Uncle Donald?”

“Where’s Dewey?”

“... Who’s Dewey?”

* * *

“So how do you know Scrooge McDuck?”

“Have you seen his money bin?”

“Do you know what his net worth is?”

Donald tried to ignore every word that his nephews said. He had never wanted to go back to McDuck Manor. He’d done his best to take his nephews to his workplace whenever he could, have a babysitter on hand, or just… He made sacrifices because who was he otherwise?

These boys were everything to him.

… Surely, he could be understood in that regard, Donald thought, arriving at McDuck Manor and pulling up to the intercom.

“ _ McDuck Manor. State your business. _ ”

“Mrs. B?”

“ _ ... What do you need, Donald? Are you all right? _ ”

“I just need-”

“The staff knows you?!” Dewey came forward, having unbuckled himself and jumping into the front seat. “How well do you know Mister McDuck?”

“Dewey, get in your seat!”

“ _ Donald, wait. I’ll meet you out there. _ ”

“Mrs. B, no!” Donald couldn’t hear the click of the intercom as the connection was cut off. He just wanted to leave the boys, get this job, and go back home. They would be able to leave and not deal with-

“Oi! Jettison that jalopy from my driveway, you deadbeat!”

Donald grit his teeth as he groaned, slamming his head on the steering wheel. He couldn’t hear the car doors opening. He just cursed quietly to himself until he heard rhythmic tapping on his window. He lifted his head and smiled at the familiar woman that had helped him so many times in the past.

Donald stepped out, feeling the weight of the past ten years shift on his shoulders. It threatened to leave him, but it still flirted with his tired body. He was so tired.

“They’re talking with Mister McDuck, Donald.” Mrs Beakley expected an answer before Donald hugged her. He wondered, as she embraced him back, if she could feel the ache in his bones.

“Uncle Donald! He knows my name!”

Donald sighed, leaving the warm hug and spotting the flash of pink behind her. The girl waved, smiling up at him. Donald waved back before turning to his nephews.

Dewey had latched himself onto Scrooge’s waist. It had been Dewey who cried out, so it was logical that Dewey was never going to let go.

“Wait, you know who we are?” Huey stared up at Scrooge with wide eyes. He was quivering, pulling out a pencil and spare pad of paper.

“Of course! How-” Donald stopped, just behind Huey. He looked at Scrooge, who just stared back.

“Hello.”

“Donald Duck.” Scrooge wriggled out of Dewey’s hold, ignoring the duckling’s protests. Donald almost yelled at Scrooge - the old man could hurt the boy’s feelings! - but a tight hug around him, even lifting him up stopped him. “Ah, Donald!”

He missed this. He really missed this. Donald closed his eyes, trying to forget memories like this. Everything was pulling apart inside of him, all of those old feelings and desires of his younger days, before he adopted the boys.

“Let go!” Donald shoved himself from Scrooge’s hold. He closed his eyes, just to reorient himself. He wasn’t living with Scrooge anymore. The boys- The boys would be safe here! Just for today!

“Whoa…” Of course Louie would notice.

“Hah…” Donald straightened himself out, turning to the boys. “Boys, you know who this is.”

“Scrooge McDuck!” the triplets cried out in unison, eyes sparkling. Donald turned to Scrooge, but the older man stopped him.

“Let me guess. Huey, Dewey, and Louie.” The boys cheered - “He knows our names!” - as Scrooge turned to Donald. “I kept your cards.”

… That should not have made Donald as happy as it did.

“All right. Scrooge, I was wondering if you and Mrs. B could watch the boys.”

“What?!” The triplets had been ready to cheer, but someone else beat them to it. A blur rushed in front of them, stopping to stare up at Donald with the widest smile. Louie wondered if her face would split.

“The nephews are staying here?!” The girl turned around, her pink bow threatening to escape her hair.

“... Yes, Webby.”

“Introduce yourself, lass.”

“Oh, right.” The girl - Webby - turned to the boys and actually lifted her skirt, curtsying. “I’m Webbigail Vanderquack. My mom is Daisy Duck, but I live here with Uncle Scrooge and my granny!” She turned to the tall, strong woman in a purple outfit.

“Hello, boys. I’m Mrs. Beakley, the house and grounds-keeper.”

“Nice to meet you,” Huey greeted, doffing his hat for a moment before backtracking. “Your mom is Aunt Daisy?”

“Yep! She works in Europe a lot, so when she can’t take me, I stay here.” Webby looked over to Scrooge expectantly. “Can I show the boys the mansion? Maybe we can play with dart guns- Ooh! Maybe play a mystery game?”

“Ask them, lass, and ask your grandmother.” Scrooge nodded to Mrs. Beakley, who led the children into the house. Webby was bouncing along, a bigger spring in her step than Donald had seen in a year.

A cough let Donald look back at Scrooge, who gestured to the fact that they were alone, save for Scrooge’s driver who haphazardly made his way around Donald’s car to park the limousine in the garage.

“It’s been a long time since you’ve been here.” Scrooge smiled warmly at Donald. Donald shivered, especially when Scrooge took a step towards him. Scrooge had always treated him well… It made him.

Longing.

“I was here last year.”

“But that was for Webby. You’re here for me.” Scrooge came close again, shifting his cane. Donald tried to step back, but the cane stopped him, threatening to trip him. “I’m starting to think that you might’ve missed me.”

Donald felt his heart race. So close… Too close…

“Why are you here, my dear?”

“Job interview. No babysitter.”

“You want me to babysit them? How often?”

Donald closed his eyes, shaking his head. “No, just this once. Please. I just… I don’t want to be here.”

“Now, Donald. Don’t lie.” Scrooge moved the cane from behind Donald and held Donald close. Donald could hear his smile. “Don’t you dare lie to me.”

“I- I-” Donald whimpered, a broken exhale leaving his lungs as Scrooge hugged him close. “Please. I just want to go to this interview.”

“You will come back, Donald.” Scrooge pressed a kiss to Donald’s forehead. “All right?”

“Right.”

Donald ran to his car. 

* * *

Huey followed close to Webby as she showed them around the house.

“There’s Uncle Scrooge’s library. He has books from all over the world in there.” Webby brought them close. “He even has books that are banned in certain countries and books that have such great historical value to them.”

“Can we go in?”

“Only with Uncle Scrooge, and he has some books that he doesn’t let anyone look at.” Webby pulled Huey along with one hand, Dewey with the other. Huey was glad that she seemed a bit observant; Louie hated being pulled along.

“But where can we go without permission?” Louie asked. “Your grandma is making some brunch and Uncle Scrooge- Wait, where is he?”

“He’s probably talking to Uncle Donald.” Webby shrugged. “They haven’t seen each other since my birthday.”

Dewey dug his heels into the floor. “Wait, our uncle comes here?”

“Yeah!” Webby let them go - Huey rubbed feeling back into his hand - and pulled out her phone. She pressed the screen a few times before she held up the screen for them to see. “He visits every once in a while, but it’s been almost a year since he came to visit - like I said, on my birthday.”

Huey took the phone carefully, holding it so that he could see it with his brothers. Their uncle was in so many photos. Donald had been there for Webby’s birthday parties, galas- Was that Donald in a family picture?

“He’s never said anything about… you.” Huey handed the phone back, rubbing his hands over each other nervously. Webby’s smile didn’t falter.

“I know. That’s okay!”

“Do you have any idea why?” Dewey leaned in, smiling and rubbing at his chin.

“Erm…” Webby turned from them, slipping her phone in her skirt pocket. “I do, but I don’t know if Uncle Donald wants you to know that.”

“What the heck does that mean?”

Webby pulled them along again, quiet now. “Well, I know that Uncle Scrooge and Uncle Donald fought last year… It was after my birthday party.”

“What about?” Louie wondered.

“... It’s complicated.”

Dewey scoffed. “How complicated? How old are you anyway?”

“I’m eleven.” Webby smiled at them kindly, opening a door and inviting them inside. “Here, we can talk here-”

“Webby?” The children turned to see Mrs Beakley. “Are you going to your room with the boys? Shall I bring lunch?”

“I can help you bring it, Mrs Beakley!” Huey volunteered, hoping to get a chance to hear from Webby about everything that he had never known about his uncle. “We were going to… erm-”

“Webby was going to show us some pictures!” Louie pulled Webby by the hand, chuckling and playing the game that he had picked up from being around adults so often. “We have some to show her, too, like our uncle at that carnival last year!”

“Oh, yeah!” Dewey said, joining in the game. “He was working some of the concession stands and a whole cotton candy machine just exploded!”

“I’d love to see that!” Webby clapped her hands together. She pleadingly stared up at her grandmother, who nodded.

“Come then, Huey. We have sandwiches and soda pop to bring.”

“Mrs Beakley, what else is there to drink? I’m trying to avoid excess sugars.”

“Whatever else you’d like, I’m sure we can find.”

As the two made their way down the hallway, Webby had Louie and Dewey wait outside. “I have something that I have to show you… It’s really important to me,” she explained.

“Go for it, Webster,” Dewey offered.

After a few moments, Webby pulled the younger triplets into the room, her bedroom. She turned on the lights, showing pictures and posters of so many things, but the two triplets focused on the painting that hung on one wall. It was a pirate ship, and Scrooge McDuck was brandishing a sword, not looking terribly much younger than he did now.

“Is that..?”

“Uncle Donald?”

“Yeah!” Webby smiled up at the painting. “Uncle Scrooge used to go on many adventures, and Uncle Donald and your mum would go with!” Webby pointed up in the corner, to the woman who brandished a sword at a pirate. There was a familiar light in her eyes, one that everyone in the room had in their own eyes.

“Is that-”

“Della Duck.” Webby nodded, confirming the identity of the woman there. “That’s your mum, right?”

After a stretch of silence, Louie spoke for his brothers. Dewey was too enamored by the painting, and it was reasonable. They didn’t have too many pictures of their mother. Uncle Donald rarely spoke about her without prompting, and it took such a long process just to have him offer up anymore information. It was too painful to do it very often

The thing that their uncle was the most secretive about was where he went every year, on the same day, at the same time. Uncle Donald would go to the store, come home with a pink and purple bag, with a beautiful pink bow. The next day - always marked on a calendar with a pink star sticker - he would kiss them good-bye and leave them for the day. It was Uncle Goofy or Aunt Daisy, typically, but it happened every year, ever since the triplets had hatched. The same time, same date…

“But how do you know about our mum and uncle?”

"Studying your family is kind of my hobby. Uncle Scrooge also tells me so many stories." Webby sighed, sitting down on the ascending level on the floor. With that, Louie sat next to her.

“You know about us, then?” Louie watched her nod and bit her lip.

“Yeah… Uncle Scrooge and Uncle Donald always talked about you guys. It made me curious!"

“Wait… You’re-” Dewey gasped, coming forward at staring at Webby with stars in his eyes. “You’re our fan?"

“Keep up, Dewford.” Louie groaned, drawing his hands over his face. “How do Scrooge and Uncle Donald know each other anyway?”

Webby nodded. She looked around the room, avoiding their gaze. “Donald and Della used to live here, when they were younger. I guess, when their parents died, the Duck Twins were sent here. I guess Uncle Scrooge raised them.”

“But why would their parents send them here?” Dewey laid down on the floor, staring up at the ceiling. Constellations with lit up stars stared back.

“I don’t know. I think it’s because Hortense Duck - your grandma - knew Scrooge from when he was little. They were both born in Glasgow, after all.”

A knock came to the door. Webby stood up to answer, inviting Huey in and taking the platter that her grandmother held.

“Thank you, Granny!”

“Just call if you need anything, dear.”

The door closed. Webby placed her platter on a low table, making sure that the drinks and small snacks didn’t spill. She could hear Louie talking to his oldest brother, trying to explain everything that happened, everything that they have learnt.

“No way. Just… What?”

“You heard me. Look! It’s Mom!”

Webby turned around then, smiling her best smile. They were the people that she had always wanted to meet, to show them her life and adventures to. They… They had always made her feel less lonely, or rather… The thought of them had always made her less lonely. They were what made the days until she could meet them pass by more quickly.

“Hey, what else do you do for fun around here?”

Webby ran to the air vent and smiled at the thought of venturing into stories hidden in McDuck Manor.

“Gentlemen! Adventure awaits!”

* * *

“Hmm… Snow on the Drake Barrier Reef, eh?”

Taking his eyes off of the newspaper in his hands, Scrooge looked down at the picture in his pocket watch. It was too familiar to part with but almost too painful to keep for pure sentimentality. He had a picture of Webby and Donald on one side, and on the other, he had the rest of his family. How long had it been since he looked at these pictures? 

“Maybe I need to make memories with the kids. Something… normal? Out of the limelight?”

Scrooge had always been quiet about his family and acquaintances during his long life. His siblings had always been protected from the media. Even their children were a secret. As far as anyone knew, Matilda Von Drake and Hortense Duck were two family friends from Glasgow that acted as companions on his adventures and took care of the Money Bin while he was away. No one in the media even knew that Scrooge had these attachments or had a family at all, aside from his parents.

Scrooge threw down the newspaper that he had been wrapped up in. He could venture out right now. The children had Bentina to watch them. With the agreement between him and Donald, Scrooge didn’t need to be present. Donald even preferred his absence in the children’s lives.

“It’s more trouble than it’s worth…” he muttered, trying to ignore the memories that were haunting his ears, “Having the boys here, it’s too painful. They’ll ruin everything.”

To the world, Scrooge was an affluent bachelor with friends that managed to stay close over generations. Even now, as he looked further into the details of the treasure that had caught his attention when reading the newspaper earlier, he was thinking of what the children would do while he was gone for this trip. He had thought of them too often to ignore their existence, but having them here was hard, knowing that Donald would take them away again, possibly until they were free to do what they wished… or until Donald told them the truth.

“Those kids are nothing but trouble!” The words were sour with false hostility, but Scrooge knew that. Even if they were a horrible thought, he needed that pain out of his body. It would make room for the tenderness that the existence of those three boys had brought him for the last ten years.

Scrooge exhaled softly, trying to relax.

His shoulders dropped.

The boys were hatched; Webby was a little girl; and Donald had trusted him with the boys…

Donald had trusted him… with Della’s sons.

Right now, the children - especially his darling Webby - were his only priority that could supercede anything else on his mind, aside from the fact that Donald would be back in the evening, eager to disappear again. 

… He was Scrooge McDuck!

He could convince Donald to...!

Everything had to be perfect, though.

Maybe, if he played his cards right, Scrooge could see the boys again. The thought made his heart skip. With that, Scrooge looked to the newspaper again, memorizing the weather patterns detailed in the article.

This would be a great trip! A beautiful memory for them as a family!

… Perhaps he should go check on the ducklings.

He didn’t find them in Webby’s room. Something in Scrooge’s gut told him that something was amiss. As he walked through the hallways, Scrooge could hear noises in the direction of the garage. What on Earth could be happening?

He did not expect several of the threats that he had trapped and stowed away in the garage to have been let out.

“What in Dismal Downs is going on here?!”

* * *

“... Are you serious?”

Dewey didn’t bother to answer Huey. He knew what he had heard. Yeah, Webby said they could get Scrooge to help them, but Dewey told them what he had heard when they were crawling through the air vents.

“Why should go to him for help?”

“What in Dismal Downs is going on here?!”

There stood Scrooge McDuck, his eyes sharp and tone harsh. It seemed that Webby wouldn’t even consider Dewey’s words, not even as Scrooge began to look around the museum and seemed nonchalant about this disaster going on with the ghost pirate, the magic sword, and the freaking Headless Manhorse!

“Okay, we have one teamed-up bad guy-” Huey began, trying to think up a plan, but Scrooge stopped him.

“Ah, good. That means one target.”

“Come back!” Dewey found himself crying out. Even if Scrooge was a jerk, Dewey couldn’t live with the thought of having a chance to stop the old man from getting hurt.

Scrooge dealt with the creatures and the sword with relative ease. With that, Dewey felt his heart leap up in excitement. The children cheered, running to Scrooge and enjoying his presence.

“What are you all doing here? Answer me, now.”

Scrooge stood in front of them, eyes angry and terrifying.

“We just came to your secret museum to connect with you more,” Louie came close to Scrooge and hugged him about the waist, “because we… love you?”

“... Louie, you’ve known me for less than a day, and this is not a secret museum.”

“It’s not?”

“This is the garage.”

Scrooge dug out a little remote from his coat pocket and used the button to open up the garage door. Dewey groaned.

“We came to a freaking garage for fun?”

Scrooge frowned at Dewey’s comment.

“This is unbelievable… What did you need in here that was so necessary? Webby?”

“Uncle Scrooge, I just wanted to-”

“Wanted to what? I’ve told you that it is dangerous to be in here!” Scrooge stepped forward. As Huey tried to come up with something to explain their actions, trying to reason out what they were doing in the garage in the first place.

“Sorry we’re nothing but trouble, Scrooge!” Dewey met Scrooge’s gaze, one shocked into blankness.

“Dewey!” Webby pulled at his arm, her eyes furious. “Don’t-”

“Everybody out.”

The ducklings looked to Scrooge, who looked very similar to Donald whenever he was about to lose his mind in anger. Scrooge’s eyes, which had been jovial before, was now icy and severe. Webby pulled on Dewey’s arm again, staring up at Scrooge.

“Uncle Scrooge-”

“I said out!” Scrooge’s cane hit the Gong of Pi-Xiu, but the monster that was released - and later defeated - garnered no more fear in Dewey than how the old man had looked at him when Dewey had spoken.

* * *

Scrooge looked over to the ducklings, the little children that he had been excited to meet and to grow familiar with. Dewey kept looking over at him, his shoulders tense, as they all discussed how well they handled Pi-Xiu. Huey and Louie did not seem as affected by his anger as Dewey. Webby was all smiles, a sign of how accustomed she was to Scrooge’s shows of anger.

He had sworn to face things calmly since her younger days, when she would follow him to his office, to his work, and to his visits with Donald when they would celebrate Scrooge’s birthday (though Duckworth was still alive when they would do that). He had broken his promise to his Webbigail, and Scrooge found his stomach churning in anxiety at the feeling of guilt.

The boys were so much like their mother, Webbigail so much like her father… It made his eyes burn.

“Uncle Scrooge?”

“Yes, Webby?”

“Are you mad?” The duckling was biting her lower lip, eyes wide and tearful. None had yet fallen, but she seemed ready to cry. The boys were also looking at him as though he would hit them.

Years ago, he might have; it was how he had been taught, and how he had taught-

“No, my dear… I’m…” Scrooge sighed, closing his eyes. What did he feel right now? His anxiety was not as high as the other emotion in his chest. No, now that they were safe, he was thinking of their accomplishments and how they had saved him and his gold.

“I’m rather proud, actually.”

“... What?” Dewey was staring up at him, eyes conflicted, cautious.

“Webby, your idea of using the Medusa Gauntlet was ingenious. And Huey, using the hose-!” Scrooge’s words were picking up energy without him realizing it, his mirth and absolute pride in these ducklings was bleeding into them. He came to sit with them, sitting in the middle of the four of them. If he could see his own face, he’d see his eyes sparkling. “Louie, you were so quick to think of what to do, and Dewey- You were so quick to put this plan of yours to action!

“You four have been nothing but trouble-” Scrooge sighed, his bones aching from relief. He didn’t notice how Dewey looked at him with a reluctant anxiety. “-and I cannae begin to tell you how much I’ve missed trouble.”

“You mean like with…?” Webby looked up at Scrooge, a smile on her face. Her eyes had the same sparkle that his did.

“Aye…” Scrooge pulled out his phone, flipping it open before looking to the four of them. “And I think it’s time that you four learn how to get into trouble properly.”

The ducklings took in a breath and seemed to hold it as he dialed Mrs. Beakley. The tone made his heart pick up in rhythm.

“Beakley?”

“ _ Yes, sir?” _

“I’m taking the wee ones on a field trip. Can you let Featherby know?”

“ _ Of course… And Mister McDuck? _ ”

“Yes?”

“ _ Call Donald. Let him know. _ ”

That was the one thing that he had wanted to avoid.

“Beakley…”

“ _ He’d be happy that you’d want to connect, and that the children are connecting, especially Webby. She’d been wanting to meet the boys for so long… I think Donald would be very pleased with this course of events. _ ”

Well, when she put it that way...


	2. Chapter 2

Donald excused himself after his new boss told him that he would be working right away. It was a blessing, but he really needed to go pick up the boys. The longer that they were with Scrooge, the more that Donald would have to pay Scrooge back for watching them. It wasn’t as though Scrooge wouldn’t want to take care of the boys otherwise. The old man had been talking about meeting the boys for years, but Donald had resisted every time.

With everything that had led to their estrangement, Donald didn’t want his family near his sister’s children. (Gladstone couldn’t be away if he wanted to be close, so he was the one true exception). Even if Della were alive, Donald wouldn’t want her near them either.

Their family was too broken for the kids to be there. The situation with Webbigail was difficult, but Donald could handle Scrooge when he would visit the girl. Their focus was on her and not on each other. 

All birthday parties had endings, at least.

It was weird to call Scrooge on his phone. It was even weirder to realize that he still had Scrooge on speed dial, the first option.

“_ Hello? Donald? _”

“Um, how’d you know it was me?”

“_ I never removed you from the speed dial. _”

Donald groaned. They really had always been this similar, hadn’t they?

“_ Are you coming home soon? _”

“Eh, no!” Donald held back the wave of nausea that was churning in his stomach. He… He really wanted to go back to Scrooge’s manor- “I’m letting you know that I got the job and I’m starting work today!”

“_ Oh, really? I’m happy for you.” _ Scrooge really did seem sincere; if not for the knowledge that this was not the real Scrooge, Donald would have felt happier. “ _ The kids will be here with me, then? _”

“Don’t get used to it. Just know that I have rules for the boys.”

“_ And they are? _”

“Bedtime’s at nine o’clock. Dewey has melatonin to take tonight, or else he won’t be able to sleep. Louie cannot have coffee, no matter how much he asks. He’ll try to tell you he needs it with his meds, but it’s a lie. Huey has the medications in his backpack. He takes care of the younger ones, but he tends to worry too much sometimes. Do not let him have any sugar after seven o’clock, and have him brush his teeth. Do not let the boys watch any movies that I used to watch. You know the ones-”

“_ Oh, the ones that we would watch when you were younger? _”

“Right. None of those!”

“_ I wouldn’t show them those! Who do you think I am? _”

“I know who you are. That’s what worries me…”

“_ ... You know I wouldn’t hurt them. I wouldn’t try anything that- _”

“I know!” Donald hissed into the speaker of the microphone, trying to keep his voice down. “I know that, but you don’t know how much it hurts me to say that.”

“_ ... It hurts to know why you think that… And I agree with you. _”

Donald could hear his boss calling out his name. Donald turned and saw the older duck holding an employee identification card in the air. He chuckled nervously, gesturing to his boss wait for a bit longer.

Hopefully, he wouldn’t get fired for that.

“Now, remember: bedtime is at 9:00; and no sugar after 7:00. Oh, and-”

“_ I run a multi-trillion dollar company. I can handle a few juveniles for the week-end. You just focus on that new job of yours! _”

Donald tried to continue on. Dewey had his medication to take, as did Louie. Huey needed to brush his teeth no matter what. Was there anything else that he needed to tell Scrooge?

He jumped as he heard Dewey’s voice, and then the sound of static filled his ear.

“Wait! Scrooge?”

There was only an answer of more static before Louie answered him.

“_ Hey, Uncle Donald. _”

“Louie, what’s going on? Are you hurt?”

“_ Nope. _”

“You and your brothers are okay?”

“_ Yeah.. _”

“Oh… Have you guys done anything interesting? Or is it boring?”

“_ Pretty boring. We napped, rubbed ointment on our joints. Old people stuff. _”

Donald closed his eyes, ignoring the rest of what was being said. He heard Louie say something about dinner, but all Donald could hear was the lie in Louie’s voice.

“Louie, I’m talking with you when I get home.”

“_ Bye! _”

… Well, if something was indeed happening, Louie would break under interrogation first.

* * *

Scrooge looked at the children who managed to sleep during their trip underwater. Louie, Huey, and Webbigail were all asleep, but Dewey was so anxious.

“Dewey… You need to sleep.”

“No!” Dewey got up from the seat, having slipped from under the seat belt that had him trapped. He came up next to Scrooge, who had the rather important job of keeping Launchpad awake. The blasted pilot kept trying to fall asleep. “It’s too exciting.”

As Dewey came to stand next to Scrooge, Scrooge could understand Donald’s concerns. He had always wondered what would happen when the ducklings were older, but Scrooge only found himself wanting to keep them safe and to teach them how to be so much like their mother.

Well, not too much like their mother.

“Why are we taking so long?”

“The path between two points is not always a straight line, lad.”

“Um, yeah, it is-”

“And by that, I mean that even if you can take a direct path, you might have obstacles that are too dangerous.” Scrooge pointed over to Huey, Louie, and Webby. “I’m ready for anything, even with this old body of mine. You seem to be the hardiest of your brothers and even Webbigail. This changes things, lad. Those three are the ones you have to think about. You seem to be an adventurer, but you need to think these things through.”

Dewey smiled. “How’d you figure?”

“You remind me of someone.”

“Who? Webby said that Uncle Donald and Mom used to adventure with you!” Dewey pressed against Scrooge, grabbing his arm. “Were they as cool as me?”

“Aye, very.” Scrooge chuckled as he thought of his past trips. He patted the seat next to him, letting Dewey climb up. “Your mother, Uncle Donald, and I have gone around the world. We’ve fought pirates, ghosts, monsters - you saw what was just in my garage, lad. Do you remember the Deus Excalibur?”

“That was amazing! It was glowing and could fly around.” Dewey’s eyes sparkled. “Where did you get that sword?”

“The Deus Excalibur was found when we went to Wales. We were looking for a gift from the Lady of the Lake on the Isle of Avalon. Legend said that if she encountered those she deemed worthy, she would grant a weapon that could slay any enemy of ours. We had some tasks to do, ones that put us all in danger numerous times.”

Dewey leant against Scrooge’s arm. If Dewey could see Scrooge’s body tense and could hear Scrooge’s breath catch in his throat, Dewey didn’t let on.

“What were they? Were there monster faeries?! Magic soldiers that regrow from whatever part of them you cut off like a hydra?!”

“Actually, they-” Scrooge bit his lip. “No, that’s not what I wanted to talk to you about.”

“Ugh… Is this some kind of lesson?”

“Yes, Dewey.” Scrooge ruffled Dewey’s hair. “I almost got hurt multiple times during the tasks. The same happened with your uncle and your mother, but we were careful. We always thought about what could be ahead and what obstacles we could avoid.”

“But doesn’t that take away from the whole experience? Shouldn’t we look for adventure?”

“There’s a difference between looking for adventure and looking for danger, Dewey.” Scrooge sighed. “When you went to the garage, you were looking for something fun, right?”

Dewey shrugged. “Yeah…”

“But you were in danger, weren’t you? How did you feel when Captain Peghook managed to wield the Deus Excalibur?”

The duckling didn’t look him in the eye anymore, staring down at the floor. “... We would have figured it out.”

“But you don’t have to look for danger, lad. Adventure is fine. It’s why I’m bringing you along. I want to show you what I used to do!” Scrooge moved his hand to Dewey’s shoulder, squeezing gently. “There are so many obstacles on the way to Atlantis, and I don’t want to risk your safety before we get there. Can you imagine it? A whole civilization under the sea? Don’t you want to see it?”

Dewey nodded, looking up. “... So, you wanna make sure we get there with our bodies intact?”

“Yes, and I want to make sure you enjoy yourself.” Scrooge nodded over to the seat where Dewey had been sitting. “You’ll need the energy for the trip lad. Rest up. We have treasure and death traps awaiting us.”

“Death traps?!”

“Keep in mind that the words still have ‘death’ in the title. You need to be in top form.” Scrooge stood up and led Dewey to his seat. Dewey sighed and sat down, buckling himself in.

“Sure, Scrooge.”

“... A feisty one. Like your mother.”

Dewey fell asleep with a small smile on his face.

Scrooge couldn’t bear to look at it for long.

* * *

Donald stared up at the ceiling as Gabby showed him how hard she could throw a blade. The blade didn’t move at all. The rope she had attached to it was still on, but it took a few tries to get the knife out. If it hadn’t created a visceral reaction inside of him, one that had his stomach churning in apprehension, he would have been more amazed.

He would have been more amazed if he didn’t have to leave the kids with Scrooge over the weekend. “They’re safe!” he told himself, repeatedly. Scrooge can watch kids; he was always good at that, even when Donald and Della were wild ducklings. The issue was that the longer Donald stayed away after visiting… Scrooge would want more than just a polite greeting when Donald got back.

“Why were you hired?” Gabby looked over at him while she wrapped the rope around the handle of the blade.

“Sailor, apparently.” Donald turned to the portholes that were letting him see outside. They were going eastward, and they had changed direction twice already. They were going quickly but not too fast; Mr. Glomgold had had the captain speed up to 33 knots.

Donald did not need to be here.

“Well, why don’t you do something with me? Let’s make you feel useful.”

Donald followed Gabby to a room where she was practicing. She handed him a knife. It felt too familiar to Donald’s fingers, and it whetted something inside of him, an appetite.

“I want you to throw these at me. You’re from the Navy, right?”

“Um, it’s been a while, but yeah.”

“You still have a good arm on you from taking care of your kids, I’m sure.”

Gabby stood about twenty feet away. Donald grabbed the first blade, admiring the metal alloy that composed the blade. With a warning, Donald threw the first blade. It must have surprised Gabby, though she did catch the blade with ease, because her eyes stared back at him.

“... You have a really good arm.”

“Um, sorry?”

“Let’s keep practicing. You shouldn’t lose that skill.”

Donald shrugged, and soon, he was out of blades to throw at Gabby. She offered to throw some at him. He caught them without much trouble. His body moved with muscles that had long laid dormant, a feeling that Donald felt was unsettling but inviting.

“Damn. Give me your phone number.” Gabby came close and gathered her blades together, reaching for a phone in a pocket of her belt. “It’s been a long time since I had a good practice partner.”

Donald gave his phone number to the warrior, ignoring Scrooge McDuck’s voice in the back of his mind that he probably shouldn’t give this woman his phone number. It was his choice to make, though; when had Scrooge McDuck ever really stopped him?

“Have you lived in Duckberg long?”

“I was born and raised there,” Donald confessed.

“You ever meet Scrooge McDuck?” Gabby chuckled, taking one of the blades to sharpen it. “I heard his Money Bin is one of the most well-protected places in the world. I’d love to try and get in.”

“Can’t resist a challenge?”

“Of course not.”

Donald could agree with that.

A noise came through the intercom.

“Attention, dear employees! We’re changing course. We’re following a different path to our destination. Ah ha ha ha!”

Donald only thought of how much he needed this job for the boys. He ignored that they were now going south instead of north. Mr. Glomgold seemed like too much of an idiot to really be leading them into something dangerous. If anything, Donald could always get away with one of the submersion vessels. Not like piloting a submarine was a really foreign thing.

“Ugh…” Gabby sighed, going to stand closer to Donald. “Anything you wanna do while our head honcho starts us in another direction?”

Donald shrugged. He looked Gabby over.

“Let’s talk. Where did you live, when you were training with the monks?”

“I would have to kill you if I talked about it.”

“Gee, haven’t heard that one before.” Donald rolled his eyes a bit.

“Are you insulting me?” Gabby leant in, sneering. “You think I can’t take you on, little sailor?”

Donald shivered. He remembered when a certain person had called him a sailor, when he had first earned the right to be called by the title. He turned eighteen, gone to do his training, and he’d come back in uniform. He’d been in a private room, when that person had come in after him. They’d asked first, calling them their little sailor, before they’d dropped down on their knees-

“Excuse me,” Donald found himself saying, his body reacting to old memories. He turned, but a firm hand gripped his upper arm. Gabby’s eyes looked over him with a hunger, one that Donald had felt when he saw her throw that knife so hard that it had embedded itself in the ceiling.

She was lithe, strong, and Donald wanted to know just how strong she was.

“Why’d Glomgold even hire you?” Her breath hit his face gently, her strong hand squeezing his arm.

“Maybe he’s a madman.”

“I don’t doubt it.”

“... Wanna lock the door?”

* * *

Scrooge looked over to his nephews, the three settled into their seats. They were sleeping soundly. Webbigail had climbed into his lap and listened to his heartbeat. She spoke of something fanciful as she played with the buttons on his coat, much like she did when she was a toddling duckling.

“Are you tired, darling?”

“Aren’t you going to sleep, _ athair _?”

Scrooge shook his head. “No, I’ll doze a bit once we’re closer. I need to make sure that Launchpad gets a rest in, too.”

The duckling looked over to the pilot. His chair was propped back enough to mimic a recliner, the large duck snoring softly.

“When we get closer, can we take a nap together?”

Scrooge looked down at Webbigail. Her eyes - God, her eyes… - stared back at him with a hopefulness and innocence that he usually ran away from when she would want affection like this. It horrified him, when he confessed that he wanted her to grow and be happy. 

He wanted his Webbigail to grow up…

“We’ll see.”

* * *

Donald could hold his breath for a long time. He was an excellent swimmer and wasn’t afraid to do anything to increase his lung capacity as a young drake. He used to have Della count for him, holding his head underwater. When they got older, that job went over to Gladstone.

For all the right reasons.

And due to this, Gabby McStabberson was getting a demonstration - first hand - as to why holding one’s breath could be a useful skill in an intimate setting. She was pressing his face down, trying to hold him down though he made rare attempts to lift his mouth from between her legs. 

“God… You said you’re single?”

“Mm-hmm…”

“Your mouth is fucking… amazing,” Gabby muttered, bucking her hips as Donald shoved his tongue into her hole. “How do you not have someone- to raise those boys and- make you happy like this?”

“Mm-mmm…” Donald shrugged, pulling back and taking a breath before listening to Gabby cry out an orgasm that should have gotten them fired.

The key word being “should”.

* * *

When Scrooge awoke from his sleep, he stared out through the glass. He didn’t dare look down at his Webbigail as she woke up and poked at his chest.

“What? Want a story?”

“What does the Drake Barrier Reef have to do with Atlantis, _ athair _?”

“Well, Webbigail, the Drake Barrier Reef creates - as it states - a barrier that runs north and south through the Atlantic. Powerful currents combined with rocky terrain make it nearly impossible to navigate, but on that rare occasion when snow falls above the reef, the currents cool, allowing safe passage to-”

“Look!” Dewey rubbed at his eyes as he ran and obscured the glass. Webbigail jumped off of Scrooge’s lap and ran to Dewey. The other two triplets ran over as well.

“It’s upside-down!”

That’s… different.

Dewey still managed to trigger two traps, by the virtue of being curious. Scrooge left Webbigail to lead the boys and Launchpad through the catacombs.

Following Dewey shouldn’t have been so harrowing, but teaching Dewey how to not trigger the damn death traps was a necessary thing. Dewey gave him a scowl that Scrooge readily ignored.

“After that stunt, young man-”

“Come on, that was cool! It’s not like I have a cane that could have let me go across the rope underneath.” Dewey looked back at the bridge which had since been burned from the most recent death trap.

Scrooge took in a deep breath.

“Remember how I told you that you need to be careful, lad? You don’t just ask for danger to come! You have to work smarter, not harder.”

“I get that!” Dewey was clenching his hands into fists, something that Scrooge focused on as the boy began to cry back at him. “I didn’t get hit by the fire, though! It’s not like I don’t know how to stay safe. Do you just want me to go back with the others?”

“Dewey, I’m not trying to keep you out of the adventure. I’m just trying to keep you safe!” Scrooge groaned. “Just- You need to understand that as the adult here, I just want you to be by me because you don’t have the experience to know what you’re doing yet! I don’t want to see you hurt, Dewey, not if I can stop it!”

Scrooge watched as Dewey’s lower lip trembled before the duckling turned and pressed onward.

Scrooge shivered at the way that Dewey’s shoulders moved. He moved like a hungry child, one that wouldn’t let anything stop him.

Too much like his mother.

* * *

“Holy shit…” Gabby pulled Donald along as they gazed at the treasure of Atlantis. Gold covered the floor, decorating the ground they walked upon in gold coins and small pebbles of the precious metal. Gemstones and jewels were cutting the sea of gold, making it sparkle with colours that were eye-catching, to be sure. “This is beautiful.”

“... Who knew we’d be here for treasure hunting?” Donald looked at their boss, who had climbed onto a statue and grabbed the jewel there. It was huge, maybe the size of Donald’s head. Mr. Glomgold laughed heartily, almost maniacally. 

“There she is, the Jewel of Atlantis!”

Donald stared up at his employer, wondering why this seemed familiar. That bit of greed in Mr. Glomgold’s eyes was so familiar, like when Scrooge-

Oh, fuck. Was Scrooge here?!

“Seize him!”

God damn it…

And here Donald thought that fucking Gabby could have meant something. Her blade against his spine gave him similar emotions, but he tried to focus, especially when he heard his boss laugh again.

“Let go of my uncle!”

Was… Was this even happening?

“Hello, Scroogey!”

* * *

His body had run forward, diving into the gold before Scrooge could understand that, yes, Donald was in danger, but he wasn’t fighting. He tripped Flintheart with his cane and stepped on the other businessman’s chest.

“What are you doing here, Flinty?” 

“What are you doing here, Scrooge?!” Scrooge looked over his shoulder, catching Donald’s gaze. The henchmen had their mitts on him, holding Donald tightly, but Donald was hardly fighting back. “I told you to take care of the boys!”

“They’re fine with Launchpad.”

“McQuack?”

“Ah,” he heard Flintheart mutter, “I see that you know my newest employee.”

Scrooge blinked down at his rival and turned to Donald, pressing his heel firmly into the other drake’s chest. He could hear a small wheeze be pressed out of his rival, something that gave him a bit of mirth.

“Your new job is working for my sworn enemy?”

“I can’t keep track of all your sworn enemies!”

“Back off the boss, McDuck.” The woman that stood right behind Donald pulled a blade up to Donald’s neck. Scrooge stepped away, Dewey coming closer to him.

“Don’t worry, Scroogey. Your ward has been a model employee.” Flintheart nodded to his henchmen. The woman did something that made Donald cry out, throwing him down before joining her employer and her comrades.

“Enjoy being the second richest duck in the world, for the next five minutes!”

* * *

The ride home was ridiculous, especially with Gabby McStabberson sitting next to Scrooge. Donald kept looking at them, trying to see if they were talking or not.

“Are you okay, Mr. Duck?” Donald looked up at Launchpad, nodding absently. The larger drake nodded and smiled warmly at him, reaching over a hand from the steering mechanic to pat Donald’s shoulder. “You can sleep if you need to. I’ve got this down.”

“Are you sure?”

“Don’t worry, the map that Mr. McD drew out is super helpful. We only have a few hours left. You must have been tired to sleep most of the way back to Calisota.” Launchpad hummed to himself before grabbing the machinery in a good grip. Donald almost spoke again, but a forced cough called his attention.

Scrooge was eyeing him. Gabby had left the seat next to the trillionaire to go talk with her teammates.

Donald excused himself from Launchpad’s side and walked over.

“You slept for a long time.”

“Sorry,” Donald said softly, sitting down next to his old companion. “I guess I’ve just been so worried about the kids that I just…”

“I told you that I’d always be there if you needed me.”

“And I told you that I’d never let you near them again if I could help it.”

“I think the words you used back then were, ‘Over my dead body’, my dear.” Scrooge shifted himself in his seat before leaning his head back and staring up at the metal ceiling of the submarine. “What changed?”

What had changed? Donald could list off so many reasons. He could cite how Scrooge had become colder, less hungry for certain things. He could recall how at Webbigail’s birthday parties, Scrooge would only prioritize his time with Donald after the duckling had gone to sleep, a pleasant smile on her face and nightmare-free. He could think back to all the charities that Scrooge had maintained in the years after Della’s… disappearance, and how the old drake somehow had the dignity to save face in the world after their world had been destroyed by one decision.

Instead, he thought of how Dewey and Scrooge figured out how to get out of the treasure chamber of Atlantis, finding the true Jewel and saving their lives. Dewey felt safe with Scrooge, and Donald could only keep a close watch.

“You.”

“Did I?”

* * *

“Dewey…”

The duckling looked up at Donald hesitantly.

“Um… I may have left the engine running in the houseboat.”

Donald could have sworn that when they gave Scrooge a quick tour of the houseboat that everything was off. They did have to move the boat due to quick dock dispute over the amount of space that Scrooge’s submarine and Glomgold’s little submersible took up in the pier. Perhaps…

“Donald?”

“Yeah?” He let Scrooge turn him so that they could face each other.

“I do have a few dozen spare rooms in the mansion.”

Scrooge really had changed.

* * *

Webby cheered and embraced the triplets once she heard of the news.

“This’ll be great! We’ll see each other all the time and I can show you everything about your family that you don’t know!”

Dewey remembered this as they all went into the garage again. Uncle Donald was busy moving the houseboat to Mr. McDuck’s pool. Scrooge and the other ducklings were playing, a small adventure without risks or true danger that Scrooge could easily diffuse. As they played, Dewey went through some of the boxes that Webby pointed out when she mentioned learning more about his family. There were photo albums, old video cassettes (really, who still had these?), and some old trinkets. One of the photo albums, at the very bottom, was quite simple, only highlighting a year, gilded in the leather.

2005.

Dewey opened the album to the first page, stared at it, and closed it, hiding it under his arm and slipping out of the garage.

He’d show it to Webby and his brothers later.

* * *

Donald knocked on the door of Scrooge’s study. Given permission to enter, he walked in. His hands were shaking, so he hid them behind his back. Scrooge finished scribbling on whatever form he was approving and looked up. He must have expected anyone else in the house, because his eyes widened before settling on something like joy.

“Hello, my dear.”

“Scrooge.”

The older drake moved to stand, but Donald bade him not to.

“Well, what can I do for you, Donald?”

“You did such a good job with the boys today.” Scrooge watched as Donald came close and brought his hands to Scrooge’s face. He cradled Scrooge close, pressing his mouth to the older drake’s. 

Scrooge didn’t move.

Donald didn’t move for a moment that spread into days and nights. When he finally pulled away, he took in a breath, sharp and quick. He knew what Scrooge would do, just as it happened every time.

Scrooge grabbed him from behind the neck, pulling their mouths together. Donald found himself drowning. Scrooge was pulling breath after breath from him, kissing Donald into a haze of pleasure. Hands pulled at him, Donald following every command that Scrooge gave; this was a reward… for the both of them. Slick and fingers, everything came so quickly, and then Scrooge had himself ready as Donald lowered his quivering hips onto Scrooge’s pelvis. The tip slipped in quickly, spreading Donald open gradually. Every feature - curve, girth, length - was a homecoming, back to where Donald should be seated whenever they saw each other.

“Oh, God…”

“You’re so tight, Donald… Haven’t you been with anyone since I last saw you?”

Donald shook his head desperately. No, he hadn’t even touched himself, pushed his fingers into his ass, since he saw Scrooge last year. Even now, Scrooge felt bigger than he ever had, save for the first time that they had come together like this.

“Are you telling the truth?”

“... No.”

“I thought not.” Scrooge thrust his hips slightly, Donald shivering as every part of his body was alight with pleasure, recognizing that this was something that he needed for a long time. “Who?”

“You met her.”

“McStabberson.”

The pain of being spanked was familiar, but Donald didn’t realize that Scrooge could be this… No, he always knew how cruel Scrooge could be. He didn’t expect that Scrooge would do this in the middle of them finally, finally having this again.

“My good boy, telling me the truth.” Scrooge pressed kisses to Donald’s neck, rolling his hips upwards as Donald presses himself down. Scrooge’s cock was spreading his open, finally all the way in and intruding. 

They stayed still, Donald panting. Scrooge continued those kisses, ones that reminded Donald that they were finally together again. This time, they were not going to separate to have the lives that they had planned to live. They were going to stay like this; God, they could just stay like this-

“Aw, fuck!”

“Don’t you dare,” Scrooge growled, thrusting up against Donald’s hips. His cock was dragging roughly inside of Donald, lubricant hardly doing anything to soothe the harsh movements of Scrooge driving himself inside of Donald’s ass. Donald couldn’t focus on his thoughts, his eyes focused on Scrooge as they continued to grow familiar to each other again.

“Your thoughts… You’re thinking too much!”

“You, you’re so… Fuck you.”

“I am. I am fucking you.” Scrooge leant back, bringing Donald with him and lifting up his love partially off of his cock. Donald keened softly, whining and whimpering at that same harsh drag that pulled inside of him. He caught his breath gradually, knowing what Scrooge would do once Donald finally did. 

Scrooge did it every time, and every time, Donald was overwhelmed, shocked… swallowed whole. 

“I am fucking you, my dear.” How Scrooge could slam him downward, impaling Donald on his cock like he was flipping through a newspaper, calm and straight-faced; Donald could never figure it out. When Donald had first experienced this, he had blacked out for just a moment, his vision coming back almost immediately when Scrooge had kissed him awake like-

“You’re thinking again.”

Donald swore. He felt his body seize in response to the harsh stab at the pleasurable spot deep inside of him. Disappointment laced Scrooge’s voice, but there was a hunger for something more. Donald found himself wanting to feed that hunger, to make it worse.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry-”

Scrooge pressed a kiss to Donald’s cheek, trailing kisses and nips to lovely feathers. He bit into Donald's neck as he began to create a rhythm between them. Donald's apologies fell into the hunger of the older drake, whetting an appetite that Scrooge had never quite figured out how to sate.

This was familiar, Donald realized, slowly enjoying the sting of his ass being stretched wider than it had been in a year. Scrooge's kisses and bleeding affections were something that he had missed, maybe even more than he had missed Webby.

He could remember when this beautiful, rough fucking was a prize, a present, and a reminder that Scrooge had made him feel this way before anyone else had ever had the chance - before anyone could have ever thought of how beautiful Donald could be if his sexual partner pulled their cock out of his ass, turned him so that his face could be pressed down onto their desk and still visible, before shoving their cock in without warning.

No, this was a desire that only Scrooge had in ever fulfilling.

"My sweet boy…"

"I'm sorry…" Donald couldn't apologize anymore, not with the breath being fucked out of him. Scrooge didn't mind that, though. "S-S…"

"No, baby, that's okay." Scrooge cooed, holding the back of Donald's neck so that their foreheads were close, their beaks touching. "I forgive you. You just let me take care of you, okay? Let me make you forget how to… to think!"

Donald nodded sluggishly, his head threatening to loll to the side. His eyes without focus, he didn't resist any of Scrooge's motions. A sudden orgasm from Donald tore its way through them both.

Scrooge looked down, slowing to a standstill; Donald's cock hadn't even come out of its sheath, the place where it was always hidden save for these circumstances. The head was only now peeking out, leaking heavily. The shaft was coated in seed, pearly white and enticing.

"Did it hurt too much? Me pushing in like that?"

Donald let out a cough, hardly catching a breath before staring up at Scrooge.

"No… just… Too fast…"

"Aren't you younger than me?" Scrooge's teasing fell on shy ears. Donald turned his face away, his body quivering as his body let out another spurt of cum. "My lovely boy…"

"Please…" Donald reached up.

Scrooge came close, humming. Donald let out a sound, a tuneless note of pleasure, before digging his tongue into Scrooge's mouth, tasting him again.

"Can I… please? Un…"

Scrooge shivered, nodding.

"Of course, but only here."

In this study, where it all began; it could only be said here.

"Uncle Scrooge…"

Scrooge groaned, biting harshly into Donald's neck as he came. That didn't stop him from picking up pace, from fucking his sister's son - his own lovely son that he had raised since childhood - and spreading those slender legs so that Scrooge could bury his cock deeper inside.

"Un… Uncle S- Ah!"

"Baby, my baby… You feel so good! All mine!"

Donald coughed, rolling his hips and making Scrooge curse.

"No… Mine!" Donald pulled his love close and dug that declaration from his uncle's mouth. God, he tasted like the first time, when Donald came close and-

"Yours, my boy. As long as I can fuck my cock into your tight body, as long as you cum on my cock, then I'm yours." Scrooge felt himself start to cum, trying to outlast his love's own body. 

Donald cried out as Scrooge's seed began to coat the inside of his ass, lasting a few more assaults to his body before letting the burn of orgasm burst from his belly one last time. Scrooge's body prone on top of his only made it last a bit longer.

There they lay, on top of Scrooge's desk, with its papers cast all around to the floor.

Moving was a chore, one that they welcomed coldly. Donald’s body was quivering, the dull ache of a rough fuck making it strange to stand. The soreness made Donald feel like he couldn’t even walk properly.

“Come, my dear.”

Donald nodded, reaching out for Scrooge to guide him to the short hallway that was hidden by a bookcase. Oh, this passage was familiar, and Scrooge led him still, Donald closing his eyes as they made it to the master bedroom. His body made it to the middle of the bed. The mattress held the scent of home and safety, Donald sinking into it as Scrooge gently pushed him down and pushed into him again.

“Oh, fuck… Yes…”

“Is that all right?”

“Scrooge, fuck me.”

“Is that an order?”

Donald turned his face from the mattress, looking over his shoulder and seeing Scrooge stare down at him. He growled, reaching up a hand behind himself. He gripped Scrooge’s arm and pulled his lover downward.

“Yes, it’s an order.”

Scrooge didn’t disappoint. He had Donald crying out underneath him, and when they finished once, Scrooge didn’t stop himself from doing it again. He wanted Donald to remember him in every part, deep inside of that young body. As Donald seemed to grow unaware of his surroundings, Scrooge did all that he could to make sure that Donald wouldn’t leave his bed, never again.

It wasn’t like Donald had another home to go back to, definitely not with the blown-up houseboat staying in the manor’s pool.

Scrooge had made certain of that.

* * *

“Dewey, why are you holding onto a wedding album?” Louie stared pointedly at his older brother. The ducklings had opted to have a sleepover in Webby’s room, as her grandmother was arranging their room and had decided that the children could use some more bonding and recovery time after their adventure.

Huey approached Dewey and sat down on the middle child’s sleeping bag, next to him.

“You’ve been holding onto that for the last two hours. Is there really something interesting in there?”

Webby came close, prompting Dewey to pull the album to his chest.

“Aw! Let us see!” Webby scuttled closer. Looking at the cover, her smile faded slightly. “Where did you find that?”

“What is it?”

Webby turned to Louie and said, “It’s a wedding album. I found it in the study once, but _ a- _Scrooge took it before I could open it up and read through it. He… He looked, not really mad but… upset.”

“Dewey,” Huey warned.

“Look.” Dewey opened the album to the first page, just as he had before.

_ 2005 - Scrooge McDuck and Donald Duck _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My Reddit, if anyone wants to chat with me :) : dev_shires


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